


Flower Theft

by kv_panda_red



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkwardness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flower theft, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, awkward dorks, gardener! lance, gay! keith, stealing flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 07:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13095375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kv_panda_red/pseuds/kv_panda_red
Summary: “No, save it. I have to see this girl. She better be a Beyoncé.”And that's how the guy I’ve been stealing flowers from is now following me to the graveyard. Where he expects to see this beautiful girl that I’m supposedly dating, and instead he’ll see tombstone.





	Flower Theft

**Author's Note:**

> from a tumblr prompt i think idk man i dont remember

~Keith P.O.V~  
Ever since mom died. That was the last time I went to her grave. I feel terrible. Even Shiro has visited her a few times. He was probably more hurt than me. He says that’s not true but, Jesus Christ, he lost his fricking arm! He keeps saying “Losing you mom is worse than losing a stupid arm”. That can’t be true. I mean, an actual part of him is missing! Anyways, I’m finally visiting her grave. I just… I miss her so much. Visiting her grave can’t possibly fill that void. Yet, here I am. Almost year later, visiting her. She would probably be disappointed. Even after I moved out I would visit her pretty much every day. She was probably still expecting that at her grave.  
I should probably bring her something. I don't have any money though. Well, I am walking by a pretty wealthy neighborhood… I’m sure one of these people wouldn’t mind if I take a few flowers for my mom, right? Oh, these are pretty. I think these are… lilies? I think she liked lilies. Well, she would like just about anything, she used to really love flowers in general. Looks like nobody’s home… It’s just a few, they won’t even notice.

{Two weeks later}  
That week I had such a great time at moms grave. Surprisingly, it made me feel happy. Even though I couldn’t hear or see her, I felt like she was there. I talked to her about my day like I used to do always. I don't know why, but I feel like she liked the flowers. I asked Shiro about it and he said that lilies really used to be her favorites, I’m glad I remembered. I also made sure those flowers were actually lilies. I which I had paid more attention to that kind of thing, its seems like Shiro did. He told me I shouldn’t feel guilty. He said:   
“It’s okay to focus on the big picture. Like when you watch a movie for the first time; you focus on the dialogue and characters. It’s usually the second or third time around that you see the Easter eggs. Of course, some people like keeping their eyes out for Easter eggs.”  
He seems to be at peace with her death, unlike me. It’s like he accepts it. I don't. I can’t seem to let her go. I wish I had appreciated her more. I shouldn’t have been so mean to her sometimes. I remember she was such a pacifist. ‘Violence is never the answer’ was one of her mottos. She always believed everyone deserved love and care. Even a hotheaded orphan like me.  
I need to bring her flowers again. I know she would love them. I know she does. I think there’s nobody home again. These rich people surely wouldn’t mind. I do feel kind of bad though. This seems to be the only house with lots of flowers, I feel like this is the person’s hobby or something. And here I am, destroying their art. Maybe if I pick a few from the middle and some on the back, it won’t be too noticeable. Last time I took like seven flowers…I’ll take four this time, I don't want to abuse…

{The next week}  
Next week will be the first day of pride month. I’m really excited as always. But, ever since I started visiting mom, I feel guilty. I never did come out to her. I have a feeling she knew, but still, I never actually confirmed it. She did always say everyone deserved love. She had a few queer friends too. She always was an avid ally.   
One time one of her gay friends came over crying. It was probably one of the first times I ever saw a grown man cry. I was around 6 years old. His boyfriend had cheated on him. At first, I was confused. Boyfriend? I’d never seen a guy with a guy at this point. After he fell asleep on our couch I asked mom about it. She said in that thick southern accent of hers:  
“Keith, everyone deserves love. Whether it be from a friend or a lover or a family member, everyone deserves it. Some people, when it comes to lovers, prefer those of the same gender or sex. Francis here, is one of those people. And you know what? It doesn't matter. Love is love no matter where it comes from. Whether it be from a boy or a girl or something in between. Its love.”  
“Does that mean I can have a boyfriend or girlfriend?”  
“As long as you love said boy or girl, of course.”  
Then, when I was a teenager, most of my friends were girls and, you know stereotypes. Guys would bully me and call me lots of things. A list of things that I’d rather not remember. I told mom and she got mad. Surprisingly enough though, she got mad at me.  
“So what if they’re calling you gay? It doesn't matter. As long as you don’t let it get to you. Plus, being called gay is not an insult. I used to be called a lesbian when I was young because I was never afraid to tell my close friends that I loved them, and I brushed it off. Why? Cause lesbians are people just like you and I. They are made of bones and muscle and fat; just like you and just like me.”  
For some reason though, I was scared to come out to her. Most people already knew. Even though I think she already knew, I had vocally come out to everyone but her. I felt bad. I still do. In theory, I guess I was scared of her looking at me differently. Hating me or loving me a little less. It was stupid. She used to go to pride parades with her friends. Why I would ever think she wouldn't accept me is a mystery.  
I’m passing by these houses again. I think I need to get her flowers. Maybe different flowers this time. The house I usually pick them from has other flowers. I was thinking maybe a more colorful bouquet, considering what I was going there for. Let’s see… they seem to have some blue ones… these purple ones… the red one—ow! Those have thorns. These orange ones. There. I have two of each plus the lilies. I really hope this person hasn’t noticed. Though, if they haven’t, they might now.

{Another week}  
I just made plans to go to the pride parade with some friends. I’m so glad I told mom last week. It feels like there’s been a weight lifted from my shoulders. I guess it’s been nagging me at the back of my head for a while now. I’m going to tell her about my friends too. Pidge is going and so is Allura. Allura is bringing over some friends. We’re still trying to convince Shiro to come, he thinks he’ll get too panicky around big crowds but I doubt it. He’ll have so much fun he won’t even remember about his ptsd.  
Time to get the flowers. I think I’m going to relax today. Last time I took so many flowers. I’ll take a few lilies…like 4.   
“Hey, you, the guy that's been picking my flowers!” Oh no. I look up to see a lanky figure. He gets closer. “Now, who gave you the right?”  
“I-“  
“No, save it. The girl better be pretty. I mean she’s making you commit flower theft.”  
“Flower theft?” The guy stood next to me now, I was able to look at him better now that the sun wasn’t blinding me.  
“Yes, and last time you really went ham. I hope you got laid or something.”  
“Wha- “  
“I mean; do you know how long these flowers take to grow?”  
“I’m sorry. I was ju-“  
“No, save it. I have to see this girl. She better be a Beyoncé.”  
And that's how the guy I’ve been stealing flowers from is now following me to the graveyard. Where he expects to see this beautiful girl that I’m supposedly dating, and instead he’ll see tombstone. Getting a good look at the guy, he’s pretty hot. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about that now but, it’s true. He has light chocolate colored skin. It’s almost the color of a good latte. He has these vibrant blue eyes that are accompanied with some pretty, curled eyelashes. He has brown hair that looks soft to the touch. He has a bright smile. The only thing is that his eyebrows are pretty much non-existent but everyone has their flaws. And despite seeing him as lanky before, he’s actually quite fit. He’s got muscle, not a lot but definitely more than me.  
We’re getting pretty close to the graveyard; I can only imagine how awkward it will be. He hasn't let me explain myself because he wants to ‘see for himself’. Oh god, here we are. I look over to see his expression and it shows confusion. Not what I expected but okay. Moms grave is towards the end of the graveyard since its relatively new. It gives him a few seconds to process. We finally make it to the grave. I hesitate a bit because of the awkward situation. I leave the little path and go over to her grave. I kneel down in front of her tombstone. Despite the awkward atmosphere, I start to talk to her.  
“H-hey mom. How are you today—that's a stupid question—you’re dead today I’m guessing. I feel like you would laugh at that if you were here.” I start replacing the old flowers. “Sorry, but the colorful flowers have to go. I bet you liked the change. Anyway, I wanted to tell you about the plans I have for the month. I’m going to the parade next week. I’m going with my friend Pidge, who is trans, and my friend Allura, who is pansexual. Pidge said they were gonna buy the three of us flags. I never told you about them when you were alive cause, I mean I came out to you last week, I was scared. I don't know why… Anyways, today at work I fixed a really cool motorcycle. Apparently the guy built it a few years ago but then he got back surgery and couldn't keep fixing it. Maybe I could do that someday.” suddenly the guy sat down next to me. I stopped talking.  
“Should I go somewhere else? Is it okay if I sit here?” he asked, to the grave…to my mom. I smile.  
“I think she’s okay with it.”  
“Did she like the flowers?”  
“Yeah. She loves lilies, they were her favorite.”  
“What about the ones you took last week.”  
“Well… it was stupid.”  
“Of course not.”  
“Well, I came out to her last week. I wanted to give her some color, like the pride flag. It’s stupid. I mean she’s not here. She can’t hear me.”  
“No it isn’t. It’s cute.” I roll my eyes. “Hey, I overheard a bit of the conversation. You’re going to pride?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Maybe I can go with you.”  
“You’re…”  
“I’m bisexual.”  
“I mean; you can go if you want. You weren’t going before?”  
“I was but, having a date, with a cute guy that steals my flowers for his mom, to pride sounds more fun than going alone.” I could feel my cheeks getting hot.  
“Oh.”  
“Oh.” He laughed. He stood up. “What’s your name by the way?” He extended his arm to help me up, I took it.   
“My name is Keith. And you?”  
“The names Lance.” We started walking away. I quickly returned to the grave.  
“See you later mom. I love you.”

{three years later}  
“So, mom. You are not going to believe what’s up. I know I visited yesterday but it’s urgent. I need to tell you. Me and Lance are getting married! He proposed to me yesterday at our three-year anniversary. We were eating at the restaurant and then he started saying really nice things. He’s kind of a sap, you know it, so I didn't think much of it. Then he got down on one knee and I felt myself tear up. Everyone in the restaurant started clapping after I said yes. Then, apparently Lance had thoroughly planned this out because in that restaurant if there’s proposal they give you the dinner for free plus a special desert. That little cheap rascal, still, you gotta love him. I’m so damn happy.”  
“Keith! We need to go to my parents’ house! You know my dad takes out his gun after 6 o’clock!”  
“That's my cue. And to think this all happened because I stole his flowers for you…Thank you. I love you. See you later.”

**Author's Note:**

> yay happy endins comments and kudos are my kink


End file.
